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They wake up lying on the ground.
Outdoors.
It's a bright, clear day.
Their body feels different.
Who's in front?
Warm, eager curiosity, with a side of playful smirk? Okay feels like it's Sable.
The Pirates wake up in the sky
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how-it's-made
Yang's reflexes know some things. Good.
Momo brushes the probing strike aside firmly, attempting to capitalize on that momentum and foul Yang's putative retreat with a leg sweep before her opponent has the chance to open up distance.
the-void-beneath
Yang hop-steps to the side over Momo's sweeping leg and throws a quick left cross at Momo's side.
how-it's-made
Momo leans into her own momentum and out of the way, hoping to turn the strike into a glancing blow if it doesn't miss entirely. Then she wheels back around, feinting as if to throw something in Yang's face with her left hand - see if she flinches - but actually throwing a heavy right cross as she tries to keep in close.